


Sgt. Barnes and Me

by writeturnlove



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 17:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16067564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeturnlove/pseuds/writeturnlove
Summary: James "Bucky" Barnes didn't plan on getting into trouble before shipping out to Germany, but that's exactly what happens when he helps the reader fight off a couple of attackers in the middle of the night. What started out as a forbidden flirtation turns into something much more for two strangers that were never supposed to meet.





	Sgt. Barnes and Me

Sgt. Barnes and Me (Bucky x Black Reader)  
By V.C. Turner

A/N: The story begins in the early 1940s before Bucky left New York to fight in World War II. This is a work of fiction and I do not own the Marvel Characters. 

Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes heard the muffled cries of a young woman coming from an alley nearby, but in the darkness of the night, he couldn’t tell which direction they were coming from. He snuffed out his cigarette and started searching along the street, in hopes of finding her and helping to fight off her attacker.  
He began to panic as the screams became a little louder and he heard the shuffling of shoes on concrete. They weren’t trying to mug her. They had other plans and Sgt. Barnes had no intention of allowing the bastards to carry them out. Raised to defend those who could not defend themselves, Bucky combed through every alley he could find. He then saw five men grappling with a young woman in an alleyway outside of a nightclub.  
He could see the gaping tear in the shoulder of her flowered sundress, which exposed several inches of her reddish-brown skin. The defiance in her eyes masked most of the hurt they’d inflicted upon her. Bucky felt a sense of guilt that he didn’t arrive sooner to prevent it.  
“We don’t want your kind around here,” one said, “So you’re going to give us an apology or we’re going to beat it out of you.”  
As Sgt. Barnes approached, heard your feisty reply.

***  
“The only thing you’re getting is this,” you said before using your right heel to kick your attacker’s balls into his throat. He landed on the ground moaning while his friends descended on you.  
You used your purse to hit one across the face while you elbowed another one in the gut. They kept coming at you with a determination that nearly matched your own. You were outnumbered five to one, but your brother taught you never to give up and you promised him you wouldn’t.  
You punched one scrawny man in the jaw and he fell face-first into the dumpster. One down. Four to go. You knew you couldn’t take them all, but you also realized that no one would help a Negro woman in this part of town.  
That is, until someone did.  
Another set of footsteps approached and you didn’t know whether to be relieved for fearful.  
“You boys should leave the young lady alone,” the man said as he stepped into view, the red light from the neon sign illuminating his face. He was dressed in an Army uniform, but walked with the swagger of a street fighter. His movements were smooth, but you were fully aware that he was going to strike at any moment.  
“Nothing to see here, Soldier Boy,” one man said, “Why don’t you get back to the base?”  
Your hero stepped closer and you got a better look at his face. His square jaw was peppered with a five o’clock shadow. His blue eyes glared at your attackers, then he turned his attention to you, concern briefly crossing his face.  
“Let her go and this won’t get ugly,” he said, “I’d hate to get blood on my new uniform.”  
“Look Private Pansy. This don’t have nothing to do with you, kid. Run along home so we can get back to business over here,” another of your attackers said.  
That was all it took. The soldier gave you a quick nod, then calmly walked up to the dark-haired thug and punched him hard enough to send the man’s teeth flying.  
A second man charged the soldier only to be knocked back by a swift kick to the chest that sent your attacker to the ground. You soon heard footsteps behind you and realized it was the redhead that tried to lift your skirt over your head. As he began to run at you, you dodged him, hooked the strap of your purse around his neck, and used his momentum to send him into the brick wall behind you.  
You heard more grunting and realized the soldier had taken down the rest of your aggressors and was watching you with an expression of admiration. He tipped his hat to you and smiled at your ability to fight off two men without any assistance.  
You scanned the alleyway for the rest of your things as you hurried toward the street. The soldier was close on your heels. You didn’t know what to say to him. Now that you were safe, his presence unnerved you in a different way. As his face came into the light, you realized just how handsome the man was. You had never been attracted to white men because they were forbidden to you in so many ways, but something about this man drew you toward him.  
He stood at 6 feet tall with short black hair, incredible blue eyes, and full lips that were too inviting for you to stare at for long. You could never have him, so why bother looking. Still, you wanted to memorize his face if for no other reason than to enjoy the impossible dream of kissing him one day.  
“I truly thank you for your help, Sir,” you told him, hoping he wouldn’t want to converse any more than that.  
“You’re very welcome, Miss,” he said in a deep voice that sent tingles down your spine and into your toes.  
He caught up with you easily as you tried to walk away from him and down the dimly lit street.  
“Look, I don’t have much money, so all I can offer you is a ‘thank you’,” you said, then looked at his nametag, “Sgt. Barnes.”  
He smiled at the use of his name and correct rank.  
“The name’s James Buchanan Barnes. Call me James, or Bucky if you’d like; my friends call me that,” he said.  
“I doubt I’m going to know you long enough to call you James, Bucky, or anything else,” you told him, trying to walk faster, but he easily matched your speed.  
“Don’t you want to know me?” he asked.  
“I can’t,” you admitted, briefly getting a glimpse of him again. He smirked.  
“Why is that?” Bucky continued. He stepped in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.  
You scanned the empty street to make sure there were no witnesses to your conversation. Black women and white men didn’t talk to one another so intimately in public. He stood too close to you; so close you could smell his cologne and it only made you want to touch him. Everything about him was both off limits and foreign to you.  
“Because white men and Negro women don’t socialize in public,” you told him as you walked away.  
“So… we’re not allowed to talk to each other?” he asked innocently.  
You stopped walking to face him. You needed to show your determination to make sure neither of you got beaten up for having a conversation on a public street.  
“All I’m saying is that we shouldn’t talk, especially not out in the open like this. For all I know, they’d kick you out of the Army and throw me out of nursing school and I can’t go back to Virginia. I won’t!” you blurted out as tears stung your eyes.  
He stood in front of you appearing awestruck at your words, so you stepped around him and kept going. You didn’t want to be rude, but perhaps that would be the best way to save him from the imminent hell he’d face by consorting with you.  
After several seconds of silence, you convinced yourself that he’d left and headed in home. You were wrong. The cadence of his walk quickened and he was soon strolling by your side again.  
“Look, Doll, please don’t cry,” he said quietly, “I just want to make sure you get home safe…and maybe even find out your name if you’re willing to tell me.”  
You didn’t understand his persistence. He seemed like a nice, honorable young man, but there was something about the entire situation that you didn’t trust. No white man had ever been this nice to you. Alarm bells should have gone off in your head, but they didn’t. Instead, you wanted him to walk with you. You wanted him to keep you safe even though being spotted together would probably be the most dangerous thing either of you could experience.  
You stood still and wiped your eyes. You looked up at him and wondered if that’s all he really wanted. You bit your lip and remained silent. You had trouble controlling your emotions for some reason. You scanned the street again and it seemed as if the two of you were the only people in the universe.  
“Miss, I’m just sayin’ that I don’t think you should keep walking home alone, that’s all,” he continued.  
You finally found your words.  
“And I don’t think you’ll be any more welcome in my neighborhood than I was in yours,” you told him, fearing for his safety even though he could clearly take care of himself.  
Bucky narrowed his eyes.  
“I’ll risk it,” he stated, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him. He was such an infuriating gentleman.  
“Were you born this stubborn or did they teach you that in the Army?” you asked him, starting to walk toward your apartment building again.  
“I was born stubborn miss,” he pointed out, “No one could teach me to be this way.”  
You released an exaggerated huff in his direction.  
“Please don’t call me Miss. It sounds like you’re selling me something,” you noted.  
“Then tell me your name,” he said.  
“I don’t normally give that out to strangers,” you admitted, “But since you’ve been so helpful this evening – it’s (y/n).”  
“Thank you, (y/n),” he said, “Can I walk you home now?”  
He quickened his pace, and started to walk backwards as he faced you.  
“Fine. If you’re gonna do this, you gotta be at least 10 feet behind me. Understand?” you insisted.  
“Why 10 feet?” he asked.  
“So people won’t think we’re together,” you stated.  
“But, we are together,” he said, smirking a little.  
“No. We are not together. We just met. You helped me out and I appreciate it, but we are definitely not ‘together,’ “ you asserted.  
“I think I should at least get some points for being your hero,” he joked.  
“You are not my hero! I was doing okay when you showed up,” you said.  
“You were outnumbered, even though I gotta say you were doing damn good for a little while. And you have a pretty mean right hook,” he noted.  
You continued to walk while trying not to look at him.  
“Thanks. My brother taught me a few things,” you told him.  
Bucky slowed down to walk at your side until you stopped in your tracks and glared at him.  
“I mean it, James – Bucky. Whatever you want me to call you. Ten feet back,” you pleaded, “You’re gonna get us both in trouble.”  
Bucky drew in a deep breath and relented, slowing his pace a bit and allowing you to walk further ahead of him. After several seconds, he spoke up.  
“You know, I don’t know why I was complaining about this. It’s such a nice view from back here,” he flirted.  
You rolled your eyes knowing that he couldn’t see you, but his infectious chuckle gave you a sense that he knew exactly what you were doing. It somehow felt both weird and right to talk to him. Normally, you were always guarded with men, especially white men. They usually ignored you, were cold and rude to you, or thought they could take you to bed you then toss you aside. Sgt. James Buchanan Barnes seemed to be different. You tried to put your guard up around him and couldn’t.  
And that scared you more than anything.  
After a few more blocks you reached the boarding house where you stayed with a group of other young women attending school nearby. You felt his intoxicating presence behind you.  
Bucky leaned forward, his chin almost resting on your shoulder.  
“So, can I walk you upstairs?” he asked.  
“No. You shouldn’t be here anyway,” you told him, perusing the neighborhood and not seeing anyone else on the street at that time of night.  
“Well, how am I going to know that you got inside okay?” he asked, looking genuinely worried about your safety. In truth, you were more worried about his.  
You let out a sigh.  
“Third floor, first window on the left. I’ll switch the lights on and off when I get upstairs. Okay?” you asked.  
He gave you a smile. His blue eyes twinkled and your heart did a flip. You tried to memorize his face so you could at least dream about him when you went to bed. He truly was a beautiful man and you felt a little envious of the sexy blonde, brunette, or redhead who would eventually steal his heart for good.  
You gave him a nervous smile, but before you started to walk up the front steps, he took your left hand in his and lifted it up to his lips, kissing it gently before letting it go as he stared into your eyes. You couldn’t help but feel excited by the gesture.  
“Yep. You’re definitely crazy,” you teased.  
He laughed quietly as he removed his hat and ran his fingers through his dark hair.  
“Goodnight, Miss (y/n),” he said, “See you around.”  
“Goodnight, James Buchanan Barnes,” you told him.  
“Just call me Bucky, okay,” he said quietly.  
“Ok, Bucky,” you said, “Thank you again. Now go home.”  
You turned and ran up the steps and into the building. You didn’t want to look back. Seeing him would only make you want to spend more time in his presence, and you couldn’t allow that.  
You walked upstairs to your room, nodding quickly to the housemother as you passed her open door. Once inside your room, you flipped the light switch on and off, just in case your dream soldier was still watching. You then stripped off your clothing and went to the washroom to clean up before bed. You put on your nightgown and released your frizzy black hair from the yellow barrette holding it in place.  
As you pulled back the covers on your bed, you heard a light tapping from the other side of the room. The radiator sometimes made a clicking sound, so you went over to it and tapped it a few times to get it to stop.  
Only it wasn’t the radiator. The tapping sound was coming from the fire escape outside the window.  
You swept the curtain aside and jumped backward when you saw Bucky sitting outside on the landing of the fire escape. His hat was placed in his lap and he had a lopsided smile on his face. His short black hair was tousled a bit. You scowled at him, but inwardly, you felt excited. You turned to make sure the lock was secured on your bedroom door before heading back and opening the window.  
“Hey, Doll,” he said with a smile.  
“What are you doing?” you whispered to him, propping yourself up onto the wide windowsill.  
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said.  
“That’s what the flashing light was for,” you told him. You crossed your arms and waited for his next excuse.  
“Can I come inside?” Bucky asked.  
“No!” you said in a hushed voice. You were a little worried the housemother would make a bed check soon, so you had to get rid of him as soon as possible even though the last thing you wanted was to see him leave.  
“Then sit here with me. We’ll just talk. I promise,” he said.  
You brought your legs up to your chest and allowed yourself to smile at him. He seemed sweet but looks could be deceiving.  
“What do you want to talk about?” you asked him as you gazed at him from head to toe. His uniform seemed tailored to his muscular form. Parts of you warmed at the thought of what could be under all that fabric, but you shook those ideas from your head.  
“Tell me about yourself. You mentioned Virginia –” he started.  
“I don’t want to talk about Virginia,” you interrupted him.  
“I’m sorry,” he said.  
“No. I’m sorry. I just have bad memories from there. It’s why I came here,” you told him, “I’m going to be a nurse. My brother is in the Army. My parents are back home wondering why both of us left them.”  
Bucky chuckled a bit before saying anything.  
“It’s because they love you,” he whispered.  
“I know. Although sometimes I can be pretty hard to love,” you joked.  
He smiled at your statement.  
“I doubt that,” Bucky said.  
Several moments passed as you exchanged glances at one another. The light from the street as well as the light from the moon cast a pale blue glow around the both of you.  
“So tell me about the guy willing to follow a total stranger into a colored neighborhood,” you said.  
“I’m from Brooklyn. I have a best friend, Steve. He’s trying to join the Army but they won’t take him because he can’t pass the physical stuff. He’s like a brother to me. He doesn’t walk away from a fight, even if he can’t win it,” he explained.  
“I take it you jump in to help him out, too,” you asserted.  
“Every time,” said Bucky.  
“Is that why you helped me?” you asked him.  
“You can’t call yourself a man if you rough up a lady. There’s no reason for men to act like that,” he added.  
“You’re a good guy,” you told him, “Tell me something else; like why did you enlist.”  
“I guess I want to protect people. Fight bad guys,” he answered.  
Bucky scooted closer to you, placing just a few inches of space between his warm body and yours. He reached for your left hand and you allowed him to take it. As he entwined his large fingers with your small ones, you noted the contrast in skin tone between the two of you; ivory and onyx, yin and yang.  
He rubbed his thumb in small circles around the back of your hand. For a brief moment, you wondered what his hands would feel like in other places, but you quickly dismissed the thought. Sergeant Barnes was just curious. He’d be gone soon and you would never see him again.  
“Why did you really climb up here?” you whispered to him as he continued to hold your hand.  
“I wanted to spend more time with you, that’s all,” he explained.  
“Bucky, you can’t stay here. We’ll get caught,” you pleaded with him. You felt his breath brush against your face and you were tempted to change your mind.  
“Caught doing what? We’re just … talking,” he flirted. He reached up and stroked your cheek. Then he looked in your eyes as he pressed his lips to the back of your hand. Your breath hitched at the sensation of his mouth on your skin.  
“I don’t want you to get into trouble because of me,” you whispered.  
“I tell you what: I’ll leave on one condition,” he said.  
You rolled your eyes, but a part of you was prepared to give him anything he wanted just because those eyes were working on you and they shouldn’t have.  
“Ok. What do you want?” you asked.  
“A kiss,” he said with a shy smile.  
“Are you serious?!” you said, trying to hush your voice and your surprise.  
He frowned.  
“Of course, Doll,” he said, “I like you. You’re beautiful, strong, smart … why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?”  
“Because I – I guess I’m just didn’t think I was your type,” you clarified.  
Bucky smirked.  
“Well, you are my type…besides… I think you want me to kiss you,” he teased.  
You took a playful swing at him with your free hand. He easily caught it in mid-air. He looked at your joined hands, then back up into your eyes.  
“Bucky,” you whispered quietly, your resolve breaking down with each minute spent in his presence.  
“I’m not going to pretend that I know what it’s like to be you and deal with the stuff you have to,” he said, “But what I do know is that I like you. And I think you like me, too.”  
“A little,” you admitted, shuffling in the window because you were tempted by his request. You’d never kissed a white man before. You never wanted to because dating one would never happen; it couldn’t happen. They didn’t see you as anything other than an object of hate or one of sexual desire; yet this one did seem to see you.  
He slid closer to you, his shoes making a small squeak on the metal beneath him.  
“So, what are we waiting for?” he asked, leaning forward.  
You saw sincerity in his blue eyes. You looked at his full lips and felt temptation.  
“I – I. We shouldn’t,” you whispered.  
“That isn’t exactly a ‘no’,” he pointed out.  
Bucky licked his lips, his face inching closer to yours. You stopped breathing, not knowing if you were about to make a huge mistake.  
“Maybe…maybe one kiss wouldn’t hurt,” you told him.  
Bucky wasted no time pressing a brief, soft kiss to your lips and slowly pulling away. You needed more. You wanted more, but you were also too afraid to ask. He may have satisfied his curiosity and decided one little peck on the lips was all he needed.  
He brushed his cheek against yours.  
“I don’t think one kiss is going to be enough,” he whispered.  
“Neither do I,” you admitted.  
Bucky kissed you again as he placed one hand on your waist and the other on the base of your neck. You kissed him back as your heartbeat quickened while his lips danced with yours. Your fingers made their way to his shirt and you held onto him as tightly as you could.  
You hoped the moment wouldn’t end, but you also feared that if you did not stop him, he’d be spending the night in your bed. That couldn’t happen, no matter how much you wanted to cave in to your desires. He had to leave. You had to be the one to let go.  
Using more willpower than you thought you possessed, you backed away from him while his eyes remained closed.  
“Bucky,” you hummed, still drunk on his kiss.  
“(Y/N),” he answered, his blue eyes glancing down at your mouth again.  
“We…we have to stop,” you told him.  
You could only hear his breathing and the distant sounds from the city below.  
“Do you really want to stop?” he asked.  
“No, but the house mother does surprise bed checks sometimes. I don’t want her to find you here,” you explained.  
Bucky pulled you close and placed a kiss to your left cheek.  
“Then when can I see you again, Doll?” he asked, his hushed voice laced with a bit of longing.  
“I don’t know,” you told him, soon feeling the weight of that realization.  
Bucky stroked your hair; his forehead gently pressing against yours.  
“How about tomorrow?” he asked, “There’s a diner a couple of blocks from the base. I could meet you there tomorrow night at 8.”  
You considered his offer and decided if he were willing to risk it, so would you. Still, you needed insurance.  
“And how do I know you’re going to show up?” you asked, running your fingers along the buttons of his shirt.  
Bucky looked down at your hands, and then raised an eyebrow. He sat back and without breaking eye contact, removed the gold cufflinks from his shirt.  
“Here,” he placed them in your left hand and closed your fingers around them, “I’m gonna need those back.”  
“I promise,” you whispered.  
“Now I want something that belongs to you,” he requested.  
You freed yourself form his grasp and slid off the windowsill. You grabbed your yellow barrette from the dresser and placed it in his left hand.  
“I’m going to need that back too. I only have two of them,” you told him.  
In one fluid movement, he placed the barrette in his pants pocked, then got up on his knees and pulled you into his arms. In that moment, you belonged to him. In that moment, he’d laid claim to your heart. It would be a shame if he broke it.  
His lips found yours again as he stole a final kiss from you; this one lasting much longer than the first two. After a few minutes, he reluctantly released you, his breath fanning your face.  
You didn’t think a person could fall for someone in one night, but then again, it never happened to you before, so how could you know that it wasn’t possible. A flicker of hope swelled in your belly as you thought, perhaps, he might actually show up the next night.  
If he didn’t, at least you could hold onto this fantasy for as long as possible.  
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Your eyes widened, as did his. By the time the housemother knocked on the door, Bucky had already given you another peck on the lips, then slinked backwards onto the fire escape.  
“See you tomorrow night,” he whispered, giving you another wink.  
“See you tomorrow,” you said back.  
“Promise?” he asked as he climbed down the ladder.  
“I promise,” you told him as you watched him disappear from sight. 

 

Present Day

 

The jet touched down on the frigid ground outside of Hamburg, Germany. The Avengers were tasked with retrieving intelligence from a long-abandoned Hydra Base. Clint landed the plane with expert precision as Natasha secured her combat gear to her tiny frame.  
Bucky stared into the distance, remembering that this was one of the first places where Hydra held him captive. Here is where he began to lose his humanity. He didn’t want to return to this place, but he had no other choice. There were missing pieces of his life that he needed to retrieve; pieces of himself that he never showed anyone. Not even Steve. It was too painful.  
He silently walked next to Steve, holding his gun tightly to his chest. His senses were overwhelmed by the cold, but he could still smell the stale air as they entered the large concrete building in front of them.  
Steve turned to his best friend.  
“You okay, man?” he asked.  
“I’m fine,” Bucky said as he entered the facility with his gun poised shoot the demons of his past.  
“There’s no one here, Buck,” Steve insisted.  
Bucky continued to hold his gun and scan the facility as if waiting for someone to jump out and inject him with a sedative so they could fuck with his mind yet again.  
As they rounded the corner, they entered what appeared to be an ancient laboratory. Metal tables, glass bottles, and stained beakers filled the room. A shiver ran down Bucky’s spine as he lowered his gun and looked around.  
Steve searched the other side of the room, coming across several locked trunks with writing on them. One of them simply read “Winter Soldier.”  
“Hey Buck. Take a look at this,” Steve announced.  
Bucky headed over to the trunk, a grimace on his face. He tugged on the lock, but it remained latched. He stepped back, aimed his firearm, and shot the lock off the trunk. Wood spattered everywhere. He lifted the lid and examined the contents inside.  
He didn’t find weapons or serums in the trunk. He found his old Army uniform… the one that had the cufflinks missing. He closed his eyes and remembered the scent of a woman he met long ago; a woman he kept secret because he knew revealing her existence would be dangerous for both of them. He lifted the uniform out, holding it away from his body.  
A soft clatter sounded in the room. His muscles tensed as he searched for the origin of the sound. Steve bent over and handed Bucky something he hadn’t seen in almost 80 years: your yellow barrette. His tension eased a bit as he held it between his fingers. A smile came to his face remembering what your lips felt like and how perfect it was to hold you in his arms. Hydra didn’t take that memory. They couldn’t take something they never knew existed.  
“Who does that belong to?” Steve asked.  
“Her name was (y/n),” Bucky said with sorrow in his voice.  
“Who was she?” Steve continued to inquire.  
“Someone special,” said Bucky, clenching his jaw to prevent himself from tearing up at the realization that he would never see you again.  
“If you old men are done checking out the lab, why don’t you help us open this…whatever it is,” Natasha said over the radio.  
Bucky stuffed the barrette into his pocket and followed Steve into the adjoining room. Once inside, they saw that it appeared to be a library of books that held Hydra’s secrets, locations of bases, and volumes of texts related to experiments on soldiers – including one named James Buchanan Barnes.  
A bank vault sat at the end of the room. Bucky knew that Hydra kept solid gold bars and local currency in these vaults all over the world. They used the money to finance their war-making activities. He remembered the code traditionally used to open the safes. He punched in the four digits and heard the locks disengage.  
Steve turned the handle and pulled the metal door open. Bucky thought that this money could finally be used for good instead of evil. He placed the gun on the nearest table and began to walk into the vault when a wall of ice-cold air hit him in the face. He stepped back as the mist dissipated.  
It wasn’t a vault.  
It was a freezer.  
Oh God, Bucky thought, more soldiers to kill or tame.  
Natasha used her flashlight to illuminate the room. There were controls that were flashing. Others flickered solid red and gold.  
“You think we should take them back to base and unfreeze these popsicles?” Clint asked, as he began to wipe the condensation away some of the freezers.  
“No. Let them be for now,” Bucky said, as he walked up to another stasis chamber and wiped the condensation away.  
He stopped breathing. He stopped thinking. He stood more frozen than the occupant of the cooler in front of him.  
Steve walked up to his friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. Bucky pulled away, slamming a fist down onto a nearby table. He then walked back to the cooler and punched the green button in front of them.  
Bucky’s breathing became erratic.  
“What the hell are you doing?” Steve asked.  
Silence filled the room as the cooler slowly began to defrost.  
Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out the yellow barrette.  
“I told her I’d give this back to her,” he said quietly as he watched the lush brown color return to your frozen cheeks, “I’m just sorry it took 80 years to keep my promise.


End file.
